


Nice Day for a White Wedding

by Snegurochka



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-04
Updated: 2006-09-04
Packaged: 2017-10-10 23:32:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snegurochka/pseuds/Snegurochka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a stealth mission to retrieve the groom's cuff links from the bride's dressing room, the best man finds something he was not expecting.</p><p>5,200 words. NC-17. Explicit (wedding-day) infidelity. Written for a 'lingerie' theme at daily_deviant. September 2006.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nice Day for a White Wedding

"Fuck off, Prongs, I'm not going in there. You know what's in there? Girls. That's the fucking Girl Wing, and do I look like a girl to you?"

"In those poncy dress robes? A little bit, yeah."

"Look, I've shagged half the birds in there, and they all probably know it. You can't send me in without back up. Where the fuck's Moony?"

James waved a hand and adjusted his tie. "Giving Snivellus a toss behind the temple, for all I know. Come on, Padfoot, don't be such a wanker. Just grab the cuff links for me and run."

"Why can't you just go? She's _your_ bloody wife. Nothing you haven't seen before, is it?"

"Not for another hour she's not, and come _on_! If anyone caught me sneaking one with the bride before the wedding, they'd chop my bits off! Bad luck and all that, yeah?" He turned back to the mirror and started tugging at his hair. "Besides, she told me herself – got some new lacy thing to wear tonight, and if I tried to get a peek before the ceremony, she'd burn it and wear a flannel nightdress for the next three months."

Sirius shuddered at the thought of the crime against nature that would be Lily Evans in flannel, then clenched his jaw and glared at James. "It's just cuff links," he muttered. "Your dad won't notice."

"My dad _will_ notice," insisted James. "He could have given me the ancestral Potter knickers to wear today, and still notice if I wasn't. He will _definitely _notice if I don't have those cuff links."

Sirius frowned.

"Come _on_, Padfoot," James pleaded, grabbing him by the shoulders. "What does it matter if _you_ see her before the wedding? Won't do anything to _your_ future life and happiness."

Except that wasn't quite right, Sirius decided miserably as he headed down the hall a minute later, because seeing Lily Evans in any state of undress, before her wedding or no, would most definitely do something to his future life and happiness. Namely, it would strip it to pieces, arrange some fresh owl droppings over it, and squish it all down, nice and slow, with a heavy boot.

~~~~~

He plodded down the hall like a sullen child, kicking back the door to the traditional women's wing of the old manor and heading towards the sound of giggling. Stupid girls and their stupid giggling. Stupid Lily and her stupid perfect breasts that he never got to touch because James got there first. Stupid universe.

He stopped outside the door from which he could hear the clear sounds of Lily's voice, chatting and laughing and asking someone how she looked. He took a deep breath and pushed it open, immediately surprised at how big the chamber actually was. He was still at the end of a corridor of sorts, with two women fussing at the opposite end. They hadn't seen him, and he hadn't yet announced his presence. Nor, apparently, had he made much noise entering, and good thing, too, because he needed a moment to collect himself.

What was it James had said about something _new_ and _lacy_? Yeah. He blinked. Whatever it was, Lily was wearing it, and holy mother of Merlin, he vowed to work feverishly after this to ensure that any thought of burning such a thing in favour of flannel went on the list of Voldemort-sanctioned war crimes.

He closed his eyes for a moment and took a steadying breath, then he dared himself to look again.

It was pure white, but _pure_ wasn't really a good word for it, not when visions suddenly shot through Sirius's head of ripping it off with his teeth and bending her over that bureau. It had tiny straps and plunged low at the back, giving him a glimpse of the smooth skin at her shoulder blades. He had to lick his lips to give his tongue something to do, because the thought of moving his mouth over the nape of her neck and down her back, and running his tongue under the edge of the lace, was really rather more than he could deal with at the moment.

As his eyes fell lower, he dropped a hand to his groin and pushed in as hard as he dared without making a noise. Getting hard right now was not an option, not in the slightest, except it was a losing battle because now his eyes had reached her knickers. They were beyond tiny, hugging the swell of her arse and rising _just_ high enough to cover her cleft. The hem was so lacy it gave him an extra bit of skin to ogle, and he took full advantage of it, eyes locked on the way her hips curved and the flesh of her buttocks beckoned to him.

He swallowed a whimper as Padfoot's base desires began to rise in him. He wanted to grab those hips and bury his face in that soft flesh. He wanted to shove that lace aside and mount her like a beast. Oh God, oh fuck. He pressed his hand harder against his erection, almost weeping with the desire both to make it go away, and to storm into that room and fuck Lily Evans _blind_.

And he hadn't even gotten to the legs yet. With a surge of willpower, his eyes moved away from her arse and began to slide down her legs, taking in the sheer, white, thigh-high stockings held up by the thin straps of a garter.

Then there were her shoes. They had to be four inch heels – no, maybe six – in a deep red. It was physically impossible that she could be standing in them, but she was, laughing with Alice as though she were wearing ordinary house slippers. One hip jutted out to the side as she shifted her weight, stretching both legs and looking like sex on a fucking stick in those shoes. The red against white was the naughtiest part of all, like letting a virgin wear the shoes of a whore, and Sirius swallowed thickly, the blood pooling so quickly in his groin that he thought he might feasibly fall over.

There was nothing for it: he had to fuck her with those shoes on. He nodded to himself as though this were actually a plausible desire, his mind filled with images of those long legs thrown over his shoulders, the spiky heels digging into his back as he plunged his cock into her and made her moan his name.

"Here love, this strap's coming undone a bit."

"Bollocks. It's almost too thin, yeah? Just hold onto this bit for me… no, right here. Okay, let me just–"

The volume turned up around him and Sirius found himself in the middle of Lily and Alice's conversation. He stared. Alice was kneeling on the floor, holding a needle and thread between her teeth and cinching one of the straps of Lily's garter.

"Take the shoes off, you slag," Alice muttered with a grin, sliding the needle through the thin material at Lily's thigh. "I'm not responsible when you fall over and I stab you with this."

Lily laughed, rich and slow. "Ah, but then I'd be too short for you to reach." She waved her hand at the needle, just missing Alice's hair.

At the door, Sirius became really quite concerned about several things, namely: how to get the cuff links without announcing that he'd been watching from the doorway for five minutes; how to get the cuff links without announcing that he had a monster erection at the moment; and finally, how to get Alice to tug on that strap a little harder, and hell, while she was down there, to see if those nimble fingers of hers couldn't just edge into Lily's knickers right _there_, and then how to get Lily to touch Alice's hair like she almost did, maybe even to push Alice's face to her cunt, and just stand there in those goddamned whore shoes and let Alice eat her out, and –

Fuck. He was hard as a broomstick now, and the wedding was going to start in – he glanced at his watch – thirty-five minutes, and if Moony was off tossing Snivellus then he wouldn't be up for another round yet, and Lily was still standing there in that lingerie with Alice practically licking her thigh, and fuck fuck _fuck_. This could not possibly get any worse.

"Here, turn around, let me check the straps at the back."

It just got worse.

Lily turned as if in slow motion, carefully balancing on the balls of her feet and manoeuvring around Alice. Sirius no longer had a nice view of her back and arse, but now had a wonderful view of the whisper of flat stomach under the lace, and the way her breasts lifted under the fitted bodice, and… her face.

Smarter men would have tried to dash back out the door long before her eyes caught him lurking there. Sirius Black was not, at this moment, a terribly smart man.

Her gaze locked on him, but her face remained impassive. She was quiet for several long, agonising seconds.

_Kick me out_, Sirius found himself pleading in his head, his body frozen in place. _Scream at me and kick me out, tell James I'm a sick pervert, I don't care, but don't let me stay_. His hand fell to his groin again before he could stop it, and he closed his eyes and pressed in hard. _If I stay, I'll never forget you_.

He couldn't read her; she was as blank as she always was with him. She teased Remus all the time, and let Peter share her candy at the Quidditch matches, but with Sirius she was always just like this: a wall. She never joked with him, never spoke to him at all if she could help it, and since leaving school she had never once been over to his flat.

He needed a reaction now. He needed her to yell.

She dropped her eyes at last, glancing down at her cleavage and bringing her hands up to cup her breasts. "Hey," she said softly to Alice. "Think this should be tighter?" She pushed gently, and Sirius's mouth went dry at the sight of her breasts straining through the stiff lace.

Alice glanced up and snorted a laugh. "Is it your wedding night, or your first night at the brothel?" she teased.

Lily smiled, glancing back at the door. "Maybe both."

"You're already pushing it, wearing _that_ under your robes," Alice continued, giving a final tug on the knot of thread at Lily's thigh and sighing. "You want James staring at your _breasts_ through the whole ceremony like a panting dog? Not very romantic, that."

"No," mused Lily as she ran an index finger over her collarbone and down to the lace barely covering one nipple. "I don't suppose any woman would want a panting dog for a husband."

Sirius held her gaze. This was not happening. Was it?

Alice laughed. "Can you imagine? A groom with a hard-on at the ceremony." She shook her head, still giggling. "Think of the photos!"

"Mm." Lily shifted to spread her legs a little further apart. "Can you check this seam for me?" she asked, dropping a hand to the inside of her thigh. "It feels like it might rip."

Still on her knees, Alice shuffled over a bit, her back to Sirius, and leaned her head in to investigate. Lily reached down to touch her shoulder for support, and that was it, that was too much. Alice's fingers moved over Lily's inner thigh, testing the seam of the knickers, her mouth just inches from Lily's cunt.

Over Alice's head, Lily was staring at him. Hard.

He clenched his fists at his side and shook his head at her, slowly and deliberately, in disbelief.

"Well, there's a bit of a snag, but I think it should hold. Let me just–"

Lily licked her lips, letting the bottom one catch between her teeth. Sirius swallowed, his fingers bruising the palms of his hands.

"Honestly, I think it's just this damned material, Lil. Won't hold up forever, but for your purposes, it should be–"

Lily moved her hand from Alice's shoulder to the soft spot where the hem of her knickers met her thigh, and lifted the flesh a little to give Alice better access. It was done, there was no way around this now. She _knew_ what she was doing to him, and she was doing it on purpose. He gripped the door frame with one hand and let the other fly to his crotch, cupping himself hard and squeezing his eyes shut against the low groan that threatened to spill out.

"Okay, thanks for checking," Lily said with a sigh. She helped Alice to her feet and then gave her a hug. "I feel so _silly_ in this outfit! I don't know what I was thinking, that any honourable man would actually go for this."

Alice stepped back. "You look hot, love. But it's probably time to get dressed! The ceremony starts at two, right? Shite, where are your robes?"

"It's all right, there's plenty of time," Lily assured her with a laugh, gesturing at the nearby sofa. "They're right here. Listen, why don't you go finish getting ready yourself? I'll be fine. I'll meet you in the foyer just before two, yeah?"

"All right. Can you get into that head-leaf-thing by yourself?"

"Yes, yes." Lily waved her hand, then took Alice's arm. "Here, go out this way – it'll lead right to your suite." She steered Alice to a side door, on the opposite side of the room from the one that Sirius currently occupied in his panting, dishevelled state, and his eyes widened. What the fuck was she doing?

The door clicked shut behind Alice, and Lily turned back to him, her hands on her hips and her head tilted to one side. "You going to stand there and toss off, or are you going to come in?" she called.

Sirius paused, more from shock than from any desire to actually deliberate the question. He hurried forward and slammed the door shut behind him. He heard her mutter a word, then felt the flow of magic over his shoulder as the lock slid into place. Okay, here was the hard part: what the hell was he supposed to say? He stared at her. "Evans," he muttered, his eyes running up and down her body. "You look–"

"Like the devil's own whore, I imagine," she interrupted.

"Yeah." He stepped forward. "That's not a bad thing, though."

She glared at him, her hands placed carefully on her hips. "Why am I not surprised that _you_, of all James's friends, would be the one trying to sneak in here while I'm getting dressed?"

"You saw me!" he protested. "And you weren't exactly screaming bloody murder, for that matter, so why don't you just admit it, Evans? You wanted to get caught."

"Get _caught_?" Her eyes widened. "I'm getting _dressed_, Black, not committing a felony."

"Oh, I don't know about that." He sauntered forward, emboldened and amused enough by her outrage to begin crossing the cavernous room towards her. "Looked to me like you wouldn't have minded Alice committing a felony or two on you."

She paused, but quickly recovered. "Ah," she said, dropping her hands from her hips and leaning back against the bureau. "Like that idea, do you?"

"Sure." He kept moving towards her. "Show me a red-blooded male who wouldn't."

"You're a scoundrel."

"Why, Evans, I do believe this is the most you've said to me in years. Glad to finally have your attention."

"You've never needed my attention. God knows you've got enough of it from the rest of the world."

"That hurts, Evans, it really does. Of course I want attention from you."

"No, you want sex from me."

He stopped right in front of her and held her gaze. "Is that what you think?"

"You're not denying it."

"No," he murmured, dropping his voice. "I won't deny it."

"Then I was right," she declared. "You _are_ a scoundrel."

"Wanting to have sex with you does not make me a scoundrel."

"It does _today_," she pointed out.

"What about yesterday?"

"Same."

"What about before the engagement?"

"Still a scoundrel."

He moved closer, his body only inches from hers. "What about before James?" he asked quietly.

Her breath caught. "We were… too young, before James. You couldn't have."

He leaned close to her ear. "I did," he breathed. "Always wanted you."

She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, allowing him to move even closer until his hips were flush up against hers, pressing her into the edge of the bureau. "And tomorrow?" she whispered.

He bit gently at her earlobe, letting his nose brush against her hair and breathe her in. "Nothing will change," he murmured. "Not for me."

That did it.

With a soft cry, she clutched the front of his robes and pulled him in hard, crushing his mouth to hers. She tasted so good, so unbelievably _fucking_ good, like wine and vanilla and something unnameable that he always knew she would taste like.

She took him over completely and devoured him, her tongue seeking his and tangling with it between parted lips, panting and gasping and shuddering against him with every breath. Her hands were suddenly everywhere, fisted in his hair, raking down his back, shoving his robes and shirt open to clutch at his bare chest, then lower – God, _God_, lower – tearing into his trousers and wrapping around his cock.

He was harder than a fucking wand, nearly choking with the pain of holding back. "Lily," he groaned, and somehow she understood because she lifted her hands away, bringing them up to cup his face as she pulled back to look at him.

He let her look, just for a second, let her see it all on his face, then he stepped back and pushed his robe and shirt off his shoulders and dropped his trousers to the floor. "Whatever you want," he murmured, framing her head with his hands and kissing her again. "Anything."

She didn't speak, but only broke off the kiss and pushed him down her body, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glittering. He let himself have one last look at her face before bending his head. His thumb ran over her breast, dipping under the lace of the soft bodice and pushing it aside. His lips closed around her nipple and the sound that came out of her mouth was so sexy that he sucked harder, flicking his tongue over her until he felt her knees begin to buckle.

There was nothing for it: he had to finish what Alice had started. Or, rather, what he imagined Alice had started.

"Fuck," she whimpered when he dropped to his knees. "Oh my God…"

"Jump up," he commanded in a low voice, and she complied, lifting her hips and twisting back onto the bureau. After a moment's thought, she spread her legs far enough to hook her heels into the handles of two drawers on either side of him. Anchored, she arched her back and begged him to touch her.

From this angle, there wasn't really any doubt in his mind about the _virgin_ versus _whore_ issue, or more importantly, which one his cock wanted her to be. He slid his fingers under her garter and moved up, the skin of her inner thighs as smooth as a shot of Ogden's. She moaned again when he slipped a finger under the lace of her tiny knickers, stroking her slowly.

God, she was wet. He inhaled deeply and fought to keep his cock in check, because right now it had some definite ideas about what it wanted to be doing.

"Come on," she growled above him. "Unless you've never done this before."

He growled back and pulled the lace hard to one side, letting his tongue slide over her cunt in a single slow lick. She cried out and arched her back even more, pushing her hips forward against his face as her thighs began to tremble.

He licked her in earnest, alternating between moving his tongue in slow circles around her clit and thrusting it inside her. Fucking hell, she tasted good.

"Here," he murmured, moving both hands under her knees and lifting her legs over his shoulders. She moaned again and clutched at his hair, pushing his face in hard. The heels of her shoes scraped over his back, just like he imagined, a delicious friction that kept his mouth working at her, wanting to make her come hard enough to cut him up with those goddamned heels.

He thrust two fingers deep inside her while his tongue lapped at her clit. Before long she began to tense, moaning above him and squeezing her thighs around his head. He felt the convulsions hard around his fingers when they hit, like shockwaves shooting up his entire arm. She cried out his name and dragged the heel of one shoe in a ragged pattern down his back as she shook and gasped.

His fingers fell away and he made no disguise of wiping his mouth against the fabric of her knickers. He was drowning in her, and she knew, _God_, she knew what he needed.

In one motion, she jumped down from the bureau as he rose to his feet, and she let him spin her around and bend her over. "Now," she ordered. "_Right now_."

His cocked _ached_ for her, and he yanked the knickers aside again, much harder than before, and pushed into her. She was slick and easy, sucking him in and clutching at him as her cunt continued to convulse from her orgasm.

He groaned at the relief of finally having something hot and wet around his cock, and he couldn't hold back anymore. This was his most erotic dream come to life: Lily Evans in pristine white lingerie and fuck-me heels, bent over and taking his cock from behind like a wild animal, a seasoned whore, pushing back to meet him at every thrust. Her fingernails scratched at the wood of the bureau and she didn't hold anything back, moaning and gasping and begging him to fuck her harder.

He tried to slow down, to hold onto this moment forever, but it was nearly impossible. He paused long enough to take one good look, dropping his eyes and gazing down at his cock sliding out of her, the edge of her knickers clinging to it on one side. It was an angry purple and shone with her wetness, and this whole thing was too much, he couldn't slow down to watch, he had to fuck her, had to come, had to rip that fucking lace apart.

Sweat began to run down his back as he shoved into her, one hand at her shoulder and the other wrapped around her waist, pulling her back onto his cock. She was so good, so wet, better than his wildest fantasy, and he felt his thighs begin to tremble and tingle, his balls draw up, and his cock thicken inside her, stiff and desperate until he came at last.

He gave a hoarse cry and clutched her waist, holding her against him as his cock spurted inside her in wave after wave. She leaned forward on her elbows, her chest heaving and nearly inaudible whispers of _Oh my God_ spilling from her lips. He bent to kiss her back, breathing in the scent of her at the soft place between her shoulder blades, just as he had imagined doing when he'd first seen her in all that lace.

As he straightened up again, the world came crashing in around him.

He pulled out slowly, wincing at the wetness that soaked her knickers and ran down her thighs. She laid her palms flat against the wood and stared down for a moment before pushing herself up and turning around to face him. They gazed at each other for a long moment without speaking.

Finally, she said in a quiet voice, "_That's_ why I've never been to your flat, in case you were wondering."

He closed his eyes.

She was silent for another long minute. "Have you got me a wedding gift?" she asked at last, and he almost choked.

"I– well."

Her troubled face briefly melted into a grin. "I don't mean _this_."

"Oh." He smiled, reaching out to push a lock of hair behind her ear. "Just a bread maker. It's a good one," he added. "Got three speeds. Me and Remus went in together on it."

"Mm." She nodded absently. "Thank you. Will you do something else for me? As a gift, I mean."

"Of course."

She stepped forward, placed one hand flat against his chest, and whispered in his ear.

"No," he replied, shaking his head. "You can't– I just– no. I can't. Not after this."

"Sirius," she said calmly. "Please."

He reached out for her again, trying to pull her in for another kiss, but she turned away. He watched with growing unease as she walked over to the sofa and stepped out of the heels. With a mechanical slowness, she unfastened the garters and let the stockings fall away, slid the knickers down over them, and kicked the whole pile to the side. Then, she carefully pulled the top over her head, dropped it to the floor, and picked up her wand from the sofa. She stood before him completely nude: the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen.

"_Incendio_," she said softly.

His eyes widened as the lingerie and the shoes went up in flames, a quick but intense burn that melted into ashes before Sirius could even process what she was doing. His throat was too dry to speak.

She got rid of the ashes, too, cleaning the spot so that nothing remained but the untouched bit of carpet that had been there before. Turning back to the sofa, she slowly donned fresh (and much more sensible) undergarments, followed by her wedding robes. A quick spell lifted her hair up into a neat twist and set a tiara of fresh leaves carefully upon it, and another flick of her wand swept her lips with red and her eyes with kohl.

"Not ideal, but it'll do," she murmured to herself, turning to him. "How do I look?"

_Like a fucking angel, set down here just for me_, he wanted to say. "I can't do it," he croaked instead.

"Yes, you can," she insisted. Her voice was still infuriatingly calm, but when he glanced at her hands, he saw how much they shook. "And when you get back out there, make sure Remus does the same to you."

He swallowed.

"Sirius." She stepped towards him, reaching out and running the tip of her index finger over his lips. "Promise me. As my wedding gift."

This was ridiculous. It was stupid and insane and utterly, fucking ridiculous, because he had not come here for sex, or for love, or to have his heart ripped out and splattered all over the floor. All he knew was that James's dad had _better_ notice those fucking cuff links, or there was no guarantee Sirius wouldn't hex the old bastard blind.

He sighed and nodded at her. "All right. I promise."

"Thank you. And get dressed, please." She suppressed a smirk at his nakedness, picked up her robes so they wouldn't drag on the floor, and eased her feet into a pair of flat white slippers. "Wait till I'm on my way out the door, away from you. If I'm looking at you, it might not work."

He nodded again, tossing his clothes on haphazardly. She narrowed her eyes.

"Why _did_ you come here, anyway?" she asked, and he barked a laugh. Utterly, fucking ridiculous.

He glanced down at the bureau, eyes searching for a moment until he saw them. With a heavy hand he reached out for the tiny items and held them up to her. "James forgot them."

She sighed, shaking her head. "Of course." She headed towards the door, tiptoeing slowly in the heavy robes.

"Hey, Evans?" he called.

She turned.

"What about the lacy thing you promised James for tonight?"

She gazed at him for a long, silent moment, her face as unreadable as it always was with him. Always had been, that is, until that brief moment today when she'd let her guard down. "I won't remember that promise, will I? If you do it right, anything to do with… this… will be gone." She gestured between them, then picked up her robes again and continued to the door. "See you in the temple, Black," she called over her shoulder. "Thank you for my gift."

He watched her until she was almost out of sight, when it was _almost_ too late, and then wearily pulled his wand out of his robes and aimed it at her.

"_Obliviate_," he whispered.

~~~~~

"What the _fuck_?" James howled as Sirius walked through the door to his suite and tossed the cuff links on the table. "You've been gone for forty-five minutes, you stupid tosser." Sirius winced as James punched him hard on the arm and snatched up the cuff links.

Remus laughed from the sofa. "Look at you! Been for a tumble with the bridesmaids, or what?"

"Fuck off," Sirius muttered.

"Both of you fuck off," James said frantically, shifting his weight from foot to foot and obsessively brushing the non-existent lint from his arms. "We've got to be out there in about three minutes."

Remus rolled his eyes, pushing himself off the sofa and strolling over to Sirius while James raced to the door and peeked out, ready for the signal. "You were smart to stay away," he whispered. "He's been like this for the past half hour. _Is it time yet? D'you think we should go out now, Moony? _Etcetera." He reached over to straighten Sirius's robes, smoothing them out over his chest. "All right?" he asked, cocking his head to the side in concern.

Sirius's head was filled with noise: the sight of red hair spilling over white lace; the smell of skin and sweat; the feel of her lips on his and her body taking him in. "No," he answered, taking a deep breath and not looking at Remus. "I need a favour."

"Sure," said Remus with a shrug, in that offhanded way he had for dealing with everything. "What is it?"

"It's…" He trailed off.

_And tomorrow?_

Nothing will change. Not for me.

He clapped Remus on the shoulder. "Nah, it's nothing. Just… wondered if the bread maker is a good enough gift."

Remus clasped his arm. "The couple that makes bread together stays together, Padfoot," he said solemnly, then broke into a grin. "Come on, James is going mad. Let's get out there."

"Yeah, all right." Sirius followed him to the door, licking the last taste of her off his lips. "Let's get out there."

 

-fin-


End file.
